


The Difficulty in Finding Employment for a Squib

by thursdayblue



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Gen, Kink Meme, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-04-05 23:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4199067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thursdayblue/pseuds/thursdayblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gentleman and a squib, John Segundus lived a life of quiet scholarship. After joining the York Society for the Support of Squibs and meeting Mr Norrell, the mysterious and reclusive Headmaster of Hogwarts, he was plunged head first into a life to which he long believed himself excluded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Education

**Author's Note:**

> Based on my own kink meme prompt (if anyone else wants to fill it please do!) which asked for a Hogwarts teacher AU with a squib Segundus. 
> 
> This is the first fic i've written in a very long time, i'm dyslexic and it's unbetad so please feel free to point out all the glaring mistakes. Also feel free to explain how to properly insert footnotes.
> 
> NOT ABANDONED!!! Now with slightly less typos!

It had become increasingly obvious that something was wrong. With a sigh he swept away the remains of his broken quill and tided the eclectic pile of books he had borrowed from his father’s library. As per usual his night time endeavours had been unsuccessful, he had failed to perform the most basic of fixing spells and, though not through lack of effort, had not managed to produce a single spark of magic. Not in the mood for his usual reading he blew out his candle, climbed into bed and clung to his inherited wand like a lifeline. The wand had been his grandfathers and it was his most treasured possession. (1.) It brought him little comfort that night lying still and lifeless in his hand. 

The next day saw the last morning of summer dawn bright and cheerful bathing the worn looking family in a warm golden light as they took their tea and toast in the breakfast-room. The family ate in silence, Mrs Segundus’ usual chatter was conspicuously absent her red rimmed eyes kept studying her son’s face before quickly looking away again. She had been, until that day, blind and deaf on the subject of her only son’s affliction, however with the end of summer and no Hogwarts owl forthcoming it was impossible to keep up her pretence.

“Well then, I suppose there is nothing for it” said Mr Segundus, he rose and quitted the room without so much as a glance at the forlorn boy sitting across from him. From that day it all changed for John, there were to be no more evenings sitting by the hearth listening to his father’s tales of distant castles and wonderful spells. As many of you may remember, in those days the advice given to the unfortunate parents of squib children was to effectively purge their lives of magic. It was according to popular opinion, from learned Prophet articles and esteemed ministry advisers, kindest to all if the child was sent to a muggle school where it could best be introduced with peoples of its own inclination. (2.) 

John had little choice, it was he supposed, better to go away than to live a life of burden and dependency but being so young and so in love with books of dragons and stories of great wizarding adventures his preparations for muggle school felt like a death blow. It seemed to him that to live a life without magic was not to live at all.

Every year he had watched the local wizarding children leave for Hogwarts and every year he had desperately begged his mother to allow him to accompany them. Mrs Segundus had laughed at her son’s eagerness, she had ruffled his hair and said with much affection “your time will come.” His time had come and gone and he could do nothing but watch.

One evening at the start of September saw his father pull him aside for some parting instruction “John, I know how you still love to carry your grandfather’s wand and to read the great histories but it is not for you anymore. It would be better if you were to leave it all behind and stop your attempts at spells. Promise that you will try, it will do you no good to carry on in such a manner.” John took some time in his reply “I can make no such promise” he said. “For magic is my life and although you are quite right to say that I will never be a practical wizard, what shall I do when it is taken from me?"

The day of his departure arrived and his parents accompanied him by coach to his new boarding in Steventon. His father was distant but gave him a hearty clap on the back in farewell. His mother wept and clutched him to her reluctant to let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1.) Willow and Unicorn Hair, thirteen and a half inches, surprisingly swishy. William Segundus, a respected Ministry adviser, had bought the wand for his first year of Hogwarts and took such admirable care of it that he needed no other in his lifetime. 
> 
> (2.) Most notably: An Education for the non-magical Childe by Ludlow Gibbs, professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry, published in the Daily Prophet in the late 1700s. The article was considered somewhat radical at its publication for its critique of the common practice of sending Squib children to muggle orphanages.


	2. The Society for the Support of Squibs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I obviously relied very heavily on the book for this, a bit like inelegantly smashing the two worlds together with a hammer. After this it will deviate quite a bit and I wont draw so heavily from the text. I have two job interviews coming up so progress may be slow over the next few days while I curl up in a ball and pretend they're not happening.

There was in the city of York a Society for the Support of Squibs.(1) An organisation formed with the best of intentions, they met regularly, to regale each other with tales of selfless charity performed for the sole benefit of their unfortunate non-magical friends.

It was not an age for the squib, not equipped for the magical world nor at home in the muggle one, they relied on such charitable beings for everything, from gainful employment to access to wizarding amenities. The society’s valiant efforts in this regard led them to enjoy a reputation as some of the most generous souls in the wizarding world.

On the third Wednesday in the month of January 1806 they received an addition in a gentleman Squib named John Segundus. At the first meeting he attended Mr Segundus rose and addressed the society. He thanked the gathered gentlemen for their longstanding dedication to wizard-born rights: he listed their many squib beneficiary’s and implied that it was the knowledge of their esteemed institution which had drawn him to York. 

Mr Segundus said that he had studied the history of magic since he was a child. He had read all the standard books on the subject and had even made a modest contribution himself. One of his titles, though written under a wizard pseudonym, had been included in the Hogwarts curriculum for two years in a row.(2) As accomplished as these feats were, for a humble scholar such as himself, he admitted that he had of late wished to do more. 

He wished to know, he said, why it was that squibs were forced to abandon all magical study practical or otherwise. Why the efforts of gifted wizard-borns in wizard politics, scholarship and theoretical magic went uncredited. In short he wished to know why squibs had no influence on the wizarding world to which they belonged. 

It was not a question that the society were pleased to hear. Indeed, many had considered it themselves while encouraging afflicted loved ones to start afresh in muggle society or to take up menial roles that ignored their talents. It was an old question. The truth being that even if they wanted to help, and not all of them did, there was little any of them could do. To find meaningful employment for a squib was not an easy task. To give a non-magical person, however intelligent, an influential role in a magical world was, to many, unfathomable. It was an issue that the esteemed wizards preferred to ignore. 

It had not been his intention but alas his simple inquiry had started quite the discussion. What with many a member having a more than healthy sense of self-importance the society quarrelled often but being the cause of that day’s particular argument put poor Mr Segundus quite ill at ease. Certainly he had wished for some interesting debate, maybe even an idea for a Daily Prophet letter or two, but to become such a disagreeable figure in the space of one night was not the outcome he had hoped. 

It seemed to come down to this, as much as the society felt pity for the non-magical, they could not in good conscience support their suitability for anything more vexing than clerical work. A squib is not a wizard and to put them in a position of responsibility over those who were, or to allow them to study a power beyond their capability was not an option. Dr Foxcastle, the society president, concluded that it went against a squibs nature and furthermore was potentially dangerous. “I hope” he said addressing Mr Segundus, “that you have not been attempting to use any magic.” Mr Segundus blushed but did not answer.

As dejected as he felt the next morning, the night had not been a complete disaster he had managed to secure himself a sympathetic friend or two. One gentlemen, a Mr Honeyfoot, made a special point of seeking him out to make his support clear.

“You were quite right sir to pose such a question.”

Mr Segundus was not so sure “if I cannot find friends in the society of York where can I find them?” he asked. “I did not expect to cause such a furore among such learned people.”

Mr Honeyfoot’s regard did not end there, a good natured fellow he invited Mr Segundus to dine at his home with his wife and daughters and they became fast friends. Mr Segundus soon learned that Mr Honeyfoot had a late sister whose quick wit and charm were at odds with the secluded life she was forced into for lack of magical ability. He blamed her early death in no small part to her exclusion from worthy occupation. He told Mr Segundus that he had joined the York society some years past resolved to ensure no person’s life should be wasted as hers was.

On more nights than not, Misters Honeyfoot and Segundus could be found sitting at the fireside late into the night discussing the latter’s predicament. For although Mr Segundus professed to be satisfied Mr Honeyfoot had made it his mission to see his friend in a worthier situation.

His friend’s determination did not desist, if anything his lack of a solution made him all the more energetic in his endeavours. It was some months later that he called upon Mr Segundus brandishing a letter in a fluster of happiness.

“I may have found support in our quest Mr Segundus!” Mr Honeyfoot looked so pleased that his friend could not help but smile in return. “It occurs to me that we need a fresh opinion” he said. “You may be unaware sir that one of our own Yorkshire neighbours is none other than Mr Norrell the headmaster of Hogwarts” indeed he did not know, the Headmaster was said to be a very private gentleman who did not encourage summer visitors. His friend continued “the society has written to him before in the hope of some esteemed support but sadly the gentleman in question was too busy and too far to join our meetings, and it was indeed a shame for Mr Norrell is said to be a most excellent wizard with no small share of means and influence. It seems to me that we cannot afford to miss such an opening and so five days ago I wrote to Mr Norrell requesting an audience.”

He handed Mr Segundus the reply it read:

Sir- It is the second time a member of the York Society for Squibs has honoured me with a letter in as many years. I am, I confess, somewhat at a loss to understand why any wizard in its ranks would find the need to consult a non-member such as myself. If, however I am to have the happy honour of your visit it would be agreeable for you to come sooner rather than later for I am at Hurtfew for only as long as the school holiday permits.  
Yours  
Gilbert Norrell

It was not a particularly friendly letter, and he could not imagine what good such a meeting would bring, but this had clearly not been noticed by Mr Honeyfoot who was quite set on the idea. Not wishing to upset his friend Mr Segundus assured him that he would be very grateful to accompany him.

-

Hurtfew was one of those places the reader may know well, a house built on ancient ground and so steeped in magic that Mr Segundus could almost believe that the very stones were alive with it. As they followed their host through an impossibly winding corridor and up a stairway, that he doubted was ever in the same place twice, he felt the subject of every portrait study them with interest.

Mr Norrell led them to a comfortable sitting room with a blazing fire where tea was delivered by means of a house elf who bowed deeply before disappearing again. Gracious as he was, Mr Segundus thought Mr Norrell to have a rather impatient air as if they had caught him in the middle of some important task. 

This did not deter Mr Honeyfoot who was most delighted by a bookshelf containing many ancient and rare looking volumes. “What a wonderful collection sir” he exclaimed. The way Mr Norrell tracked his hands as they skimmed over the spines suggested to Mr Segundus that he was rather protective of his books and that the ones on display in this room were likely nothing to the ones he surely kept elsewhere.

The library at Hogwarts had been a prominent feature of the many stories his father had told him and Mr Segundus had long desired to see it. He was about to ask if Mr Norrell was enjoying his time at Hogwarts, since taking over two years past, when their polite chit-chat was interrupted by the entrance of a rather scruffy looking man with a serious countenance. 

The newcomer, who glanced at them and nodded in greeting before looking impatiently at Mr Norrell, was briefly introduced as Childermass, a teacher a Hogwarts. Mr Segundus was curious to know what lesson the slightly less than respectable looking man in front of them taught but no information was forthcoming and he did not want to impend on what was clearly important business. “You’ve had another owl sir” said Childermass “from Professor Burns. It needs urgent reply.” 

Mr Norrell seemed to pale “another one?” he asked. “This is most frustrating” an awkward silence grew as the head teacher seemed lost in thought. “Hogwarts business sir?” inquired Mr Honeyfoot “I do hope it’s not bad news.” Childermass snorted but gave no answer. 

Clearly they had outstayed their welcome so Mr Segundus reminded his friend that they had not yet discussed with Mr Norrell their reason for visiting. 

“You are quite right” he said before addressing Mr Norrell “we came sir to gain your most esteemed support.” Mr Norrell did not look impressed but listened anyway. Mr Honeyfoot explained the situation listing Mr Segundus’ talents and achievements and insisting that his lack of steady respectable work was a great loss to the wizarding world. He spoke in such a gushing way that Mr Segundus had to avert his eyes in embarrassment from the penetrating gaze of Childermass who seemed more intent on the conversation than their host. 

At last Mr Honeyfoot’s glowing recommendation of character came to end “we ask only sir, if you are willing, for your backing in furthering our cause and that if you should hear of any suitable opening through your wide acquaintance that you put in a kind word for Mr Segundus.”

After a small pause, in which Mr Norrell and Childermass seemed to have a silent conversation with much frowning from the former and raised eyebrows from the latter, Mr Norrell gave his reply. “You have come at a most fortuitous time, a most fortuitous time indeed” he glanced at Childermass again who nodded. “I can promise nothing of course” Norrell continued “but I shall give the matter much thought.”

On leaving their company Mr Honeyfoot was in high spirits proclaiming “I do believe that went very well indeed.” Mr Segundus was not so sure, as he looked out the carriage window at the dreary weather he could not help but ponder silent conversations, the owl from Hogwarts and the pale face of its headmaster. There was something of the situation that they had not been made aware of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) The Society for the Support of Squibs is a charitable organisation founded by Idris Oakby with the intention of assisting wizard-borns (better known today as squibs) living in the wizarding world.
> 
> (2) John Segundus wrote several books and articles under the pseudonym Tobias Diggle. Tobias Diggle was Mr Segundus’ great grandfather on his mother’s side. The author believed at the time it gave his work credibility.


	3. A First Sight of Hogwarts

Two days after his first meeting with Mr Norrell, Mr Segundus returned home to find a visitor standing in his landlady’s parlour. 

The landlady had sprung on Mr Segundus as soon as he stepped through the door “there is a man here to see you Sir” she said “He said he is here on Hogwarts Business at Headmaster Norrell’s request.”

Like Mr Honeyfoot she had taken quite the liking to Mr Segundus and was determined to see him in a situation more befitting a gentleman. Brushing dust of his shoulder she herded him into the small parlour where his guest was waiting.

Childermass looked most out of place in the ornately decorated room. Mr Segundus saw that his wild appearance was all the more striking when set against a backdrop of delicate furniture and the floral patterns Mrs Pleasance preferred. It made Mr Segundus all the more curious of the man in questions position at Hogwarts. To be a teacher at the wizarding school was lucrative and respected, an occupation traditionally undertaken by scholars or the daughters and second-borns of pure-blood families. He could scarcely imagine what subject Mr Norrell entrusted to the man in front of him. 

He must, thought Mr Segundus, be a very capable wizard. This in itself would be a remarkable notion to much of wizarding Britain of the time, although muggle-borns had been accepted at Hogwarts for generations (and lower class magicians for even longer), there was still a strong belief that they could never be as powerful or talented as those born from the old pure-blood gentry families. 

“Mr Childermass” He said “I fear I have kept you waiting, I confess I did not expect a second meeting.” Childermass nodded “do not worry yourself sir I have not been here long” reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a letter and handed it to Mr Segundus “Mr Norrell sends his regards, he has thought over your proposal and considered it at great length,” he gave him a long look, as if blaming Mr Segundus for the considerable time his employer had given the matter, before continuing “Hogwarts has of late found itself in urgent need of a new History of Magic teacher, the headmaster has reviewed your writing on the subject and found it to his satisfaction.” 

Mr Segundus frowned looking down at the letter in his hand, his name was written in small neat letters and the envelope was sealed with the Hogwarts crest. “He had wondered Mr Segundus, if you would consider taking up the position for the new school term.” Mr Segundus blinked, he must have miss-heard “I’m sorry?” he asked. Childermass threw him an amused smile “he wanted to know if you would teach sir.” Mr Segundus gaped at a complete loss for words, not in his wildest musings had he considered such an opportunity.

Childermass put his hat back on and readied himself to leave “the letter goes over all the particulars, think on it but do not take too long, Mr Norrell is not a patient man and will be expecting your reply.” 

Mr Segundus shook himself out of his stupor “I..” he looked at the letter again fearing it had disappeared in the short moment he had looked away. “You may tell Mr Norrell that I will think it over and that I am much obliged to him.” Childermass dipped his hat at him and headed for the door “wait...” Mr Segundus called after him, the other man turned to face him again “forgive me for being curious, Mr Childermass, but may I inquire what is it that you teach at Hogwarts?” Childermass raised an eyebrow “divination.”

 

\--------------------------------

 

The Honeyfoots were delighted when they heard of their friends' good fortune “there is no one more deserving sir” said Mr Honeyfoot “I knew Mr Norrell was an excellent fellow.” Mr Segundus, although naturally delighted, was not as certain as his friend and took some time sending his reply to the headmaster. Mr Norrell scarcely seemed someone particularly concerned with the plight of squibs let alone a gentleman who would go out of his way to employ one.

Mrs Pleasance, who was prone to gossip (her information was usually very reliable), had told Mr Segundus that a young niece of hers had mentioned that several staff members, some of whom had been there for some time, had left Hogwarts over the last year or so in less than good terms. According to the young lady there was much rumour surrounding Hogwarts and Mr Norrell was struggling to find any willing teachers. “You will be as good as any they’ve seen, no doubt sir” Mrs Pleasance told him “if that Mr Childermass is a teacher the students will be thrilled to have someone as respectable as you.”

 

\--------------------------------

 

He arrived in Hogsmeade two days before the start of term disagreeably late, irritable and exhausted. It had not been an easy journey (having travelled by coach from York) the roads past the border were notoriously poor and he had been thrown around the carriage as if travelling by sea. By the time they had pulled into the small village coach house he was more than ready for a cup of tea and a warm bed. 

As per tradition the teachers gathered at the Three Broomsticks before journeying to the castle together for the start of term. Lantern light and warm laughter spilled out through the narrow street and served to lift his spirits somewhat as he headed inside to meet his new colleagues. 

It was quite busy considering the lateness of the hour and he picked his way through the patrons looking anxiously around for any likely looking teachers. “Mr Segundus” called a voice from behind him, deep, northern and increasingly familiar, “Mr Childermass” he greeted turning to face the man leaning on the bar behind him. Childermass raised an eyebrow “It is good to see you’ve arrived in one-piece sir, we were becoming worried that you’d been stolen away by fairies” he started to apologise for his lateness but was dismissed “you’re here now, and we’re through this way” with a tilt of his head he led Mr Segundus through the main room to a little back parlour where a group of ladies and gentlemen were assembled round the fire.

He followed Childermass to the far side where a smiling man and charming lady stood to greet them “Mr and Mrs Strange” Childermass introduced “this is Mr Segundus. Mr Strange is the deputy headmaster and charms teacher, Mrs Strange is the herbology teacher and head of Ravenclaw.” 

Introductions were made and pleasantries exchanged until he had met all of his colleagues and formed on the whole rather favourable impressions of them all. The only exceptions being Mr Norrell, who did not enjoy such events and declined to attend, and Mr Lascelles, head of Slytherin house, a rather disagreeable man who was most dismissive at any attempt of conversation. Mr Segundus did not see him smile the entire evening.

The next hour passed in pleasant conversation, he found Mrs Strange and Miss Greysteel to be most delightful companions and after a short time in their company his tiredness was all but forgotten. Far too soon the barkeep called closing time and their merry group made their way back into the cold evening air. 

Most of his fellow teachers chose to travel to the school by carriage but on hearing that it was his first visit to Hogwarts, Mrs Strange and Miss Greysteel insisted that he accompany them by boat, as Miss Greysteel informed him, “it would not do for your first view of the castle to be as ordinary as that from a carriage.” Mr Strange, who had drunk more than his wife approved of and was in rather high spirits, readily agreed to the little excursion and in short order the four of them, accompanied by Miss Tobias (a stern looking but sensible Astronomy professor) and Mr Childermass who was apparently there on Strange’s request to “stop anyone from falling in the lake, there’s a good chap” headed to the docks and climbed into two boats which set across the lake to Hogwarts.

Mr Segundus sat in the boat with Miss Tobias and Childermass as it glided smoothly toward the castle harbour, in front of them, Miss Greysteel trailed her hand through the glassy water and Mrs Strange laughed chastising her husband for rocking the boat (this only served to make him purposely rock it further) as he lost his balance and tumbled back on the seats. None of this mattered to Mr Segundus, at his first sight of Hogwarts he was transfixed, its towers and candle lit windows appeared just as he imagined them but yet impossibly more magical. Not even the penetrating gaze of Childermass watching him from the front of the boat could stop the wide smile that spread across his face.


	4. A Forest Within a Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. Life really got in the way! I promise there will be more action and Segundus/Childermass interaction in the next chapter.

His room was small but comfortable containing everything he needed. A sturdy bed leant against one wall and at its foot his trunk had magically appeared. Opposite this was a dressing table and basin, and under the sole widow was, he thought, a rather serviceable desk. Looking out he saw that the view was of the courtyard below and if he stood on the very tips of his toes Segundus could just make out the dark silhouette of the forest in the distance. 

Someone (most likely a house elf) had started a fire in the hearth which emitted a pleasant glow over the two overstuffed chairs set to face it. The room was not quite so large as his lodgings in York but having never been a man of much means or excessive taste Mr Segundus found himself to be very pleased. 

Although earlier his most fervent wish had been for hot tea and a warm bed the excitement of the evening had left him rather restless. Knowing sleep would likely not come easily he instead began the task of unpacking his books and the few family trinkets he thought to bring, arranging his room to his liking and making it feel a little more like home. He still had his wand, he carried it everywhere, though he no longer tried to use it. Strictly speaking Segundus knew he should not own it at all, and it would not do for any of his colleagues to discover it, so he stowed it carefully at the very bottom of his trunk out of site but not forgotten. 

He stood some time at the window that night marvelling that after so many years he was finally able to count himself a resident of Hogwarts. 

 

 

The History of Magic classroom was favourable too, if not a little dusty, it was bright and airy with a wall of windows overlooking the grounds. Mr Segundus’ only complaint was that on first inspection it felt intimidatingly large for his small group of pupils.

His first class was a mix of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff third years and he counted an unlucky thirteen of them as he made his way through the room to the desk at the front. There should have been two more but a mysterious sickness had taken hold the previous year leaving several children, and two teachers, suffering from a kind of lethargic melancholy that kept them from their work. The Headmaster had ensured the staff that the issue was underhand but Mr Segundus had noticed several significant glances and hushed arguments between Norrell, Strange and Childermass that led him to doubt it. He wondered if the school's apparent difficulty in recruiting teachers and his own subsequent employment were a direct result of this. 

Feeling a little nervous he busied himself for a moment or two by arranging his books and quill on his desk. Then a few moments more by wiping clean the blackboard (some budding artist had filled it with several drawings depicting a rather self-important looking character with a quiff of white hair, it was done well and he was sad to destroy it). On feeling he could dally no longer he wiped the chalk from his hands and turned to face his class.

They were clearly a high spirited bunch, chattering and tittering among themselves, paying him very little attention. It was, he decided, to be expected on the first day of term that the students would be slow to settle into to any routine or discipline. Clearing his throat, he called “settle down please” a small blond haired boy glanced at him briefly but the general noisy hubbub did not change. He steeled himself and tried again, this time attempting to put as much command into his voice as possible (I fear this did not come naturally). “Children, I said settle down!” he managed more volume on his second attempt and slowly his pupils stopped their talking to look on their new teacher with mild interest. They did not appear particularly impressed. 

He had forgotten, since his own retched school days, how little most students actually wanted to learn. John had been an unusual child, serious and desperate to soak up every scrap of knowledge thrown at him magical or otherwise. In muggle school, where he had found his home in the dusty history books and classical tomes, the most boisterous children (those boys tried to avoid) had saved their energies entirely for the perusal of sports or the tormenting of others. If a teacher was not firm enough, or their subject not filled with the gore and horror desired by their young charges, there was little they could do to keep any semblance of order or sanity. It seemed to Segundus that the differences between muggle and magical children were not as great as society would have him believe. To young undisciplined minds the History of Magic was not as exciting, and therefore worthy of attention, as the more practical lessons on offer. 

The students were not interested in the Goblin Rebellions, or the Golden Age magicians, or even Martin Pale’s adventures in faeire. He had some success talking of the Raven King with his fifth years but even then the work they produced was only half-hearted. His worst class by far where the fourth year Slytherins, they had little respect for the subject and next to none for their teacher.

If it were not for his two N.E.W.T level students (his only N.E.W.T level students), a Mr Stephen Black and Miss Emma Wintertown, Mr Segundus may have been forced to admit defeat. Pleasantly the two 7th years (head boy and girl respectively) were spirited young wizards with quick wits and good manners. He could tell from their first meeting that they were keen to apply themselves and would, with instruction, be sure to make good progress.

The pair seemed to him at first unlikely friends, Stephen was a sensible Hufflepuff strict but fair in his Head boy duties whereas Emma (a Gryffindor) was free spirited and opinionated with a fiery temper. He soon found however that they each possessed a stubbiness and passion for History which was quite refreshing. Caught up as they were in fascinating debate, on the nature of Faeries and their morals, one lesson overran quite considerably and Mr Segundus found himself apologising to his fellow teachers for their lateness. 

He took solace in these lessons, for the rest, despite his best efforts, were increasingly frustrating. On many occasions in his early days at Hogwarts his classroom had more clearly resembled a battle field than a place of learning, with all his pleas and stern words only serving to turn the student’s wild attention on him rather than each other. There were of course some well-behaved children but the mischievous ringleaders thwarted any attempt at getting through to them.

To make matters worse it seemed that a few of the student’s had parents that took offence at a squib instructing their children. The headmaster had received several owls with letters informing him of their disgust and dissatisfaction. Arthur Winbright, whose father had been the most vocal in his dislike of Mr Segundus, had made the misery of his teacher his sole life mission. Not a lesson went by where John was not pelted by enchanted paper balls or hit with a well-timed curse while his back was turned. 

He had of course gone to the headmaster in some embarrassment to apologise for the barrage of owls, but Mr Norrell dismissed him with little fuss, assuring him that he never read the notes of parents instead leaving such correspondence to his Deputy or Childermass (who he seemed to treat as a kind of servant in matters of business). Indeed, he seemed ignorant of the letters contents and Segundus’ struggles entirely. 

Mr Strange also dismissed his apologies laughing, not unkindly, at his offer of resignation. “It’s the same for all new teachers” he reassured “they will settle down with time.” Mr Segundus was not so easily reassured. His feelings of unease were exasperated further when one dreary Wednesday as he was taking breakfast in the great hall as usual, with the Stranges and Miss Tobias, that an owl delivered yet another letter of complaint directly to him. 

It was not a particularly strongly worded letter but its meaning was clear enough, Mr Littleworth (father of 4th year Fred Littleworth) expressed his concern over Mr Segundus’ teaching ability and politely suggested that he stepped down and left magical education to those of magical ability. 

“Not bad news I hope?” asked Mrs Strange on seeing her friend’s dejected expression. Before Segundus could answer the lady a huff of laughter sounded behind him. His ears immediately reddened, Mr Lascelles was reading over his shoulder. Of all his colleagues at Hogwarts Lascelles was the only one he truly disliked. 

As soon as the students had realised that Segundus’ lack of magic made it harder for him to stop curses, duels, or to clear away their magical mishaps (purposeful or otherwise), they began to see him as little threat to their unruly behaviour. Worst of all some of them seemed to have deemed him a worthy target. There was little he could do when one of them saw fit to charm a small rain cloud to settle just above his head drenching him in endless torrents of cold water.

It was with much embarrassment that he set out to find a colleague to rid him of the storm. His mood had been darkened further when the first teacher he found was Mr Lascelles who acted little better than an insolent schoolboy himself when presented with the problem. Lascelles made no attempt to hide his amusement, as the rain continued to fall, and removed it with some obvious reluctance and no sympathy for Segundus’ humiliation. He even seemed to blame Mr Segundus for making the floor slippery! His worst pupils were particular favourites of Mr Lascelles and he was the last person that Mr Segundus wished to see.

Mr Lascelles tutted “Dear me another letter” he said “I did warn the headmaster that the parents would not take kindly to a squib. One must admire your efforts but you must see the truth in it.” The table sat in awkward silence until Strange cleared his throat “That’s enough Lascelles, I am of the opinion that every new teacher must find their feet so to speak. I’m dare say none of us were without difficulty, Mr Segundus here will make a jolly marvellous teacher given time” he reassured. 

From the corner of his eye Segundus saw Childermass, who was sitting at the other end of the table reading his cards (as was his habit in the morning), watching the whole exchange with an angry glare (Segundus had learned early on that Childermass did not take kindly to interruption before breakfast). He groaned internally, clearly his business was known by the whole school. 

Having no lessons to teach that morning he escaped the pitying advice of his friends in favour of a walk. He had taken to roaming the castle grounds and on an evening could often be found strolling round the lake or exploring the furthest corners his new home had to offer. Despite his less that solid start to teaching his joy of being at Hogwarts had not diminished and he found no greater joy than getting to know its each and every inch. 

Often he would sit at his favourite spot, a large rock at the very edge of the forest, to write a letter to Mr Honeyfoot. The two men had kept up a regular correspondence since his departure and receiving a note from his friend was always great comfort. 

It was on such an occasion that he first saw the raven. Writing his letters one morning he had the peculiar feeling that he was being watched, Segundus got to his feet and looked about him, no one was there but the feeling remained ‘hello?’ he called. There was no answer, frowning he sat back down but his concentration was lost and the words did not come easily. He was sure, and usually his intuition was to be trusted in such matters, that someone had their eyes on him. Something rustled behind him and he tensed fearing a sneaky attack from one of his students. Schooling his face into a stern frown Segundus turned ready for confrontation. “I-” he blinked and with a breath of soft laughter at his own paranoia smile replaced frown. It was only a raven, a rather large bedraggled looking raven but a raven none the less. It cawed at him almost mockingly before regarding him from its rocky perch. Mr Segundus was not sure that this was normal behaviour for a wild bird but he was not someone who spent much time with animals and knew that corvus was known for its intelligence. They stared at each other for several moments.

He was at a loss as to what it wanted, he had not seen ravens at Hogwarts before and why this one had apparently took an interest in him was a mystery. It was true that the occasional wizard still kept a raven or crow as an owl alternative but it was rare these days. Perhaps it was lost he wondered. Reaching for his satchel Segundus pulled out the sandwich that he had prepared for later and ripped off a corner offering it to the bird. The bird ignored it. He threw it a little way away in case it was scared to take from human hands but all it did was caw again before stretching its wings and flying into the woods. Segundus sat in peaceful silence for a few moments more before finishing the remainder of his lunch and heading back to the castle. 

It was not a one off occurrence. Often he would sit taking in the air or writing his letters and on many occasions his new raven friend would pay him a visit. Sometimes, though he felt a little silly doing it, he would read out loud or on particularly frustrating days air the worries he was unable to tell the other teachers. Embarrassing as Segundus felt this was he had come to look forward to their little meetings, sometimes he would bring food and had gained enough trust that it was taken from his hand by a sharp beak. Confiding in another living thing, even one that could not understand, went some considerable way in alleviating his loneliness and frustration. 

It was on such a day when on tucking away his latest letter, ready to send the next time he stopped by the owlery, that he noticed that something was strange about the nearby area of forest. He squinted at the trees, he had been there many times but they were somehow not as familiar as they should have been. By its very nature the Forbidden Forest was a mysterious place but this was very peculiar indeed. 

It was as if it didn’t belong there, if asked to describe it later he would not be able to, he could not recall if it was some unusual sound or a smell in the air that caused it but quite suddenly Segundus knew with a bone deep certainty that he was no longer looking at the Forbidden Forest. The woods in front of him were much older, older than Hogwarts, older even than human magic. From somewhere within its depths, as if carried to him on a pleasant breeze, came the faint ringing of bells. They called to him and he strained to hear them. Moving to the edge of the trees he saw what appeared to be a worn looking path stretching out in front of him. Raising his arm, he reached out as if testing the temperature of bath water before plunging in. The moment he readied himself to do just that, his raven friend took to the sky with an ear piercing screech. Segundus startled and the spell was broken. When he looked back the path, the bells and the ancient woods were gone. 

By the time he got back to the castle doubt of mind and evening had both set in.


	5. A Scandal at Hogwarts!

Summer drifted slowly into autumn and Segundus noted a chill in the air when he took his evening walks. The fires were lit, the nights rolled in and the attentions of his students had mostly turned to quidditch (of course this could also be said of Mr Strange who, having once been quidditch captain himself was particularly keen on the game, indeed the training of the Slytherin boys team appeared to be of higher importance than his teaching of charms). Yet still Mr Segundus had spoken to no one of the mysterious occurrence near the woods.

He was not entirely convinced of the validity of his memory. True, at the time he had been thoroughly convinced in his stumbling across some ancient and powerful magic but he had revisited the scene many times since and had found nothing sinister or out of the ordinary. 

“Perhaps I was mistaken” he told the raven one evening as he sat watching the sun disappear behind the trees. “I have searched half the library for references of magical woods appearing at Hogwarts and have found nothing.” He held out some bread for the bird who ignored it completely in favour of nosing and clawing at Segundus’ abandoned letter to Mr Honeyfoot. 

“I was rather out of sorts that day, is it possible I imagined the whole thing?” the raven hopped and shook its wings as if in annoyance. Mr Segundus did not notice, distracted as he was with the darkening forest. Sighing, he rose to his feet and frowned at the now dirtied letter “what I need is an outside opinion.” With that decided he tipped his hat in farewell to his small friend and made his way inside to resume his correspondence.

\---------------------

Mr Segundus was not by nature an early riser, recent habit had forced him to be more so but it still took him several cups of strong tea to ready himself for the day’s activity. He was therefore not overjoyed when after a particularly fitful night’s sleep, his dreams full of strange magic and ravens, he had been woken inconsiderately early by a loud insistent knocking. 

The teachers had been roused from their beds in the early hours for an emergency meeting in the headmaster’s office. The message was delivered by Lucas (the caretaker) with such a sense of urgency that Segundus forwent dressing and attended the meeting in his night shirt (breaches and robe hastily pulled on top).

He was, much to his relief, not the only staff member in less than respectable attire; Mrs Strange and the ladies were well turned out but Mr strange looked as if he had been forcefully dragged from his bed. Mr Thorpe was in his night shirt, and even Mr Norrell seemed unusually rumpled. Only Mr Childermass seemed to have found time to dress fully the time of day seemed to hold no effect at all over his bearing.

Mr Norrell cleared his throat and addressed them in his usual quiet manner “I am sorry to have disturbed you all so early but it could not be helped”, the confused murmurs died down and the teachers looked expectantly at the headmaster. “Late last night, a pupil” he gestured to a small girl (who had until that point gone unnoticed hiding as she was behind Arabella’s skirts) “woke Mr and Mrs Strange in great distress”. The girl, whom Segundus now recognised as Mary Snowe, a rather sensitive but good-natured 1st year looked thoroughly miserable. Norrell continued “It seems that one of our Hufflepuff third years, your sister is she not?” he tried to smile reassuringly, but Mary merely nodded before bursting into tears. Miss Greysteel wrapped an arm around her shaking form and Mary turned her face into her dress and sobbed pitifully. 

The headmaster looked unsure of what to do in the face of such a display but after a brief pause carried on “Miss Susan Snowe, confided in her sister that she was going to meet a gentleman friend at the far side of the grounds yesterday evening. She has not returned since.” Mr Segundus winced in sympathy as Mary’s wails made themselves heard again. There was for a moment a kind of stunned silence as the staff took it in, it was after all the responsibility of them all to ensure the children’s safety, for one so young to go missing under their very noses was nothing less than a tragedy.(1) 

“Mr Childermass and I have done a preliminary sweep of the grounds and forest but the girl is not to be found” said Mr Strange his continence unusually sombre. 

Several of his colleagues started to speak at once “we must search again” cried one, “who was the gentleman?” asked another. 

Segundus did not hear them, at the mention of the forest he’d paled, in all his fretting since that day he had only thought of his own sanity, his own excitement of experiencing magic. Standing in the headmaster’s office with one child crying and another missing he felt a deeper shame than he had ever experienced. He averted his eyes from Mary’s hunched form only to catch Childermass watching him closely. It was an all too knowing gaze and he was more than a little relieved when the other man turned his attention back to the foray of their colleagues. 

Mr Strange raised his hands to silence the outburst “We will search again” he said, “It is getting light now which should make our task easier. The gentleman will search the grounds while the ladies question the students.”

Strange turned to the young lady who at some point had been gently pushed into to a comfortable chair, she was still pale, her face stained with tears, but had become noticeably calmer. Someone had given her a steaming cup of tea which she clung close to her chest. He crouched beside her “now Mary, we need you to tell us exactly what your sister said. Who was the man she was going to meet?”

“I don’t want to get her into any more trouble sir” she said in a whisper. Beside Segundus Mr Lascelles huffed indignantly “the stupid girl’s in enough trouble as it is” Anne flinched and shrank back in her chair, Mr Strange gave him a sharp look. “She’s not in trouble” he said turning back to the girl “but we must find her, make sure she’s safe.”

Mary sniffed but nodded. Segundus had come to notice that Jonathan Strange was a particular favourite among the students, they were distantly respectful of Mr Norrell and slightly in awe of the foreboding Mr Childermass but it was Strange with his easy going nature and his dramatic demonstrations of magic that had them hanging on his every word. 

“She told me that she had met a gentleman, that he- she said that he was tall and blond and handsome. He gave her things, necklaces and flowers. She said they were going to meet again near the woods, on the far side where the oak has fallen, to talk. Just to talk Sir! She would not have run away! She would have told me.” 

“Did she tell you his name?” asked the headmaster “where they first met?” 

Anne shook her head “she said only that she had met a man and that he was kind to her. She is a good girl sir, everyone says so.”

The room went quiet, Mr Norrell sat down heavily at his desk, “thank you miss Snowe” he said “Mrs Strange will take you back to your dormitory, I will contact your parents” addressing the teachers he said “Mr Strange is right, we will search the grounds again, though I fear by now they will be gone.” 

He watched the girl as she left the room “it is sad indeed, it will be a sure blow to the school’s reputation.”

Segundus cleared his throat, on hearing the proposed meeting space he had to speak, it could well be coincidence but something told him it was not, a girl missing from the same place the strange woods had appeared.

He described the instance as best he could, though found it was hard to explain something that was more feeling than anything else. He stumbled his way through, very aware of the gazes levelled his way, even to his own ears his concerns seemed vague when voiced out loud. 

For the most part his peers listened politely, it was only Strange and Childermass who seemed to be listening with genuine interest, the latter leaning forward where he stood behind the headmaster’s chair. Norrell listened too but was quick to dismiss “it is interesting indeed” he said “the forest is full of many magical things and I hardy fear we need to concern ourselves with anything so sinister.” Segundus felt his heart sink.

“You are without magic are you not? It would be easy for you to misunderstand some quite normal magical occurrence” He did not say it in a particularly unkind way but it left poor Mr Segundus feeling rather foolish.

\----------------------

 

Just as promised the staff searched the grounds again sweeping the forest in pairs. Childermass strode beside Segundus seemingly unhindered by branch or bramble. To Segundus he looked perfectly at home. In truth he seemed somehow more at ease than he did in the castle, it was as though he belonged there among the trees and undergrowth. He seemed familiar with their path too walking it with ease like he did so often, though Segundus had rarely seen him outside.

Segundus was more careful a he picked his way over uneven ground, the weather had brightened significantly and they walked in companionable silence. If it were not for their grim task at hand he would have considered the day almost pleasant. The scene felt not unlike his much loved evening walks, even the company of the brooding man beside him felt oddly familiar, though he was unsure as to why this would be, they had never spent so much time in one another’s company before. 

Their peaceful concentration was interrupted quite suddenly by a loud crash which nearly saw him colliding with Childermass who had stopped suddenly a pace ahead. He recovered from his near embarrassment just in time to see an angry and mud-encrusted Lascelles barrelling through the trees with a thoroughly amused Jonathan Strange following in his wake. 

“He fell in a brook” said Strange trying to cover his laugh, Segundus looked away lest he give in to the urge to smile himself. From the corner of his eye he saw Childermass’ mouth twitch. “It is easily done when the ground is wet. Find anything?”

“It is ridiculous” snarled Lascelles “some chit of a girl is stupid enough to elope and we’re expected to waste our time looking for her. I for one have better things to do” with that he stormed off, though the drama was somewhat lost when he stumbled on a root. Childermass let out a cruel huff of laughter at this, he did not blame him, given the chance Henry Lascelles would happily rid the school of mixed-blood pupils like the Snowes. He had no doubt that in such circumstances he and Childermass would be out the door as well. 

This thought rather sobered him and it seemed to have the same effect on the others. Strange sighed. “I will see you both back at the castle” he told them all amusement gone.

The two remaining men finished their allotted area with no success, in truth Mr Segundus was rather relived that they had not found her. The forest was perilous at the best of times and it had been a cold night, if she were still there he feared she would not be in a good state. 

As they retraced their steps back toward the school his relief soon abated as his thoughts wandered, Susan was a sensible girl. He got the impression that she was a level-headed, good natured student. He could not fathom her running off as she did, even for a beau, with no possessions and leaving no word to her sister. Of course love can turn even the sanest of people to rashness. He looked at his companion.

“Do you suppose she has run away with someone?”

Childermass considered this for a moment “I don’t know” he answered “my cards ‘ll not give me a clear answer. If she were in this forest we would have found her.”

Segundus had become rather fascinated by Childermass’ infamous cards. Despite Childermass’ respect of Mr Norrell and Norrell’s great disproval of divination, it was not unusual to find Childermass sitting in some quiet corner of the castle consulting the cards that were seemingly always tucked into his pocket. He longed to ask about them and it was not as if the other man were secretive about them, Segundus knew that card reading was taught in his classes, but still it somehow seemed like an awfully private thing to ask someone you did not know well. It was not the right time. 

Bringing his focus back to the present he remarked “despite was Mr Lascelles thinks she seems sensible, I find it hard to believe she would leave with no possessions and no word”

“Even for a fine young gentleman?” Childermass asked raising an eyebrow “love can sway the most level-headed of people can it not?” 

“I hardly know” he replied expecting a sarcastic comment, but Childermass was silent once more. He hoped it were the case, he did not want her to be caught up in scandal or ruin but a romantic tryst would be far favourable to finding her in a ditch or forcibly taken.

It was an unhappy thought and he found his spirits sinking with every step, all traces of his earlier optimism had disappeared along, he noted, with the brief bought of good weather. It had turned rather chilly and to further blacken his day he felt a headache coming along. Pulling his overcoat more firmly around himself he frowned at the trees. It was the same route they had taken earlier but he did not recognise them. An oak as gnarled and ancient as the one in front of him was hard to miss. He had never seen it before.

Childermass was frowning too, a few steps later he stopped motioning that he should do the same. Segundus shivered as he watched the other man scan the space in front of them. His headache was getting worse and his limbs felt oddly heavy.

“Do you see it?” Childermass asked wand raised in front of him, eyes sharp.

Segundus shook his head, he saw the trees surrounding them but as if through a veil, he felt as if they were closing in, blocking their path from view. It was making him dizzy, he tried to shake it, tried to focus so he could better help Childermass find the source of movement but his mind was too foggy to be of any use. 

He jumped when a hand gripped his shoulder but it was only Childermass. Stumbling, confused and sluggish, he was none to gently pushed onwards. The hand tightened “we need to keep moving” Childermass said close to his ear, low and urgent. Segundus let himself be steered, the warm hand felt like the only solid thing for miles. They kept a determined pace for some time until eventually the trees began to thin and the castle was visible once more.

His senses seemed to return to him as they reached the forest edge and shaking loose the last of the fog that clung to his mind he breathed deeply. Beside him he felt some of the tension leave Childermass, his hand slacking before being withdrawn altogether. Still though the other man kept a firm grip on his wand and Mr Segundus noticed he looked pale and drawn.

“What did you see?” 

“Something that should not rightly be there”

It was not a satisfactory answer but there was a shuttered look on Childermass’ face that made it clear he would not get a better one. “You felt it too? Strange magic in the forest?” He tried not to sound too hopeful but it would be a great comfort to him knowing that he was not wrong in the matter. 

Childermass nodded and considered Mr Segundus gravely “tell Mr Strange to keep the students in doors” he said eventually “I need to speak to Norrell.”

\---------------------

Weeks later and there was no word on missing Susan. By order of the headmaster much of the grounds had been proclaimed out of bounds to students and the teachers remained in high vigilance. 

It had at first been the dominant story in the Daily Prophet with headlines such as ‘Scandal at Hogwarts’ and with questions over safety and propriety. several parents had deigned to take their children out of school choosing instead to educate them in one of the magical establishments on the continent. This of course worried many of the teachers and parents alike who were uncomfortable with the departure of many of the old pure blood families. Hogwarts itself was rife with gossip, Mr Segundus could scarcely walk down any corridor without hearing whispered conversation or sensational rumour. 

The news of a disappearing school girl had even made it into the muggle papers. Childermass, who liked to keep abreast of both muggle and magical news, regularly received a copy of The Times which was brought to him by a rather disgruntled looking Barn owl with a tendency to hoot loudly at her owner until he paid her with scraps of food or attention. Segundus would often ask the other man what the papers had reported or to borrow the story once Childermass had finished. For a while quietly sharing the papers over breakfast had become their morning routine both being keen to hear any news on their missing pupil. 

Mr Lascelles however, whose dislike of them both had grown impossibly more, sneered at the muggle papers complaining to the head teacher that their presence in a magical school gave a bad impression. Mr Norrell seemed to care little if the papers were wizard or muggle but objected to them being read on the grounds that much of their reports were based on falsehoods. 

Segundus did not know what had passed between Norrell and Childermass after their talk the day that Susan went missing but he had noted a growing tension between them which seemed most out of character. His friendship with Childermass had grown somewhat since the day in the woods but it was clear that the other man had no intention of disclosing his conversation with the headmaster. 

Arabella had confided that there had been a meeting between the headmaster his deputy and Childermass that went on several hours and consisted of much arguing. She did not however know the details and he did not feel it were his place to ask. 

Despite the tension it did not take long for a sense of normality to creep its way back into their lives, the sensational stories made way for new gossip far away from the walls of Hogwarts and though the teachers were still on high alert the restrictions on students had been somewhat lifted. Still he felt a kind of gloom had settled on the school and he was increasingly frustrated with his lack of successful research. 

It was therefore with much relief that the beginning of November saw him receive a long and interesting reply from the ever reliable Mr Honeyfoot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Hogwarts was unusual in that, unlike the majority of muggle schools, it did not fully separate its male and female students in the classroom. More controversial, to muggle readers, the lessons for both were much the same. It did, of course, still maintain, strict rules in the housing and social interaction of its girls and boys. 
> 
> There was no unsupervised socialisation between the sexes and in their free time or during meal times and the enforcement of appropriate conversation was upheld. The playing of quidditch was encouraged for both sexes but the male and female teams could not be mixed. 
> 
> Far more controversial to the majority of the parents was the admission of children not only from the lower classes but from mixed blood and muggle parents. It was one thing for their children to mingle with the opposite sex but to freely associate with muggle-borns and those bellow their station was for many a cause of much anxiety and anger.

**Author's Note:**

> (1.) Willow and Unicorn Hair, thirteen and a half inches, surprisingly swishy. William Segundus, a respected Ministry adviser, had bought the wand for his first year of Hogwarts and took such admirable care of it that he needed no other in his lifetime. 
> 
> (2.) Most notably: An Education for the non-magical Childe by Ludlow Gibbs, professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry, published in the Daily Prophet in the late 1700s. The article was considered somewhat radical at its publication for its critique of the common practice of sending Squib children to muggle orphanages.


End file.
